


In Mr. Jefferson's barn

by china_shop



Category: due South
Genre: Childhood, Gen, Unfinished and Discontinued
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-10-25
Updated: 2010-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-12 21:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/china_shop/pseuds/china_shop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben shook his head, a haystalk prickling his ear as he lay on his back in the dark cool cave of an upturned canoe in the dim shadows of Mr. Jefferson's barn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Mr. Jefferson's barn

"Banana?"

"No." Ben shook his head, a haystalk prickling his ear as he lay on his back in the dark cool cave of an upturned canoe in the dim shadows of Mr. Jefferson's barn. Flies buzzed in the background, and the old bitch, Sally, who was too old to be a sled dog, was panting in the doorway, but mostly it was quiet and dusty.

Innusiq was sprawled on top of the canoe, looking down at him through the hole where the wood had rotted out years ago. "Mango?"

"No."

Innusiq shuffled sideways, causing dust to shower down onto Ben's face. "Tomato?"

Ben pulled out his new pocketknife. "Yeah."

"When?"

"Last Christmas. My father brought some." The pocketknife had eight different functions. Ben was still figuring some of them out, like how could you possibly scale a fish with a two and a half inch blade? He pulled the file out and scraped it across the bottom edge of the canoe. "Tell me a story."

Innusiq snorted. "I've told you all the stories."

Ben wiped the dust out of his eyes. "No, you haven't," he said.

Innusiq's face disappeared from the hole, and his clothing rasped against the rough wood as he slid to the ground and rolled under the canoe so he was lying shoulder to shoulder with Ben. "No," he agreed. "But I've told you all the ones I'm allowed to tell." He picked up a piece of straw and twisted it around his plaited bracelet. "You wouldn't like the others, anyway."

Ben frowned. "I would, too."

"Nah." Innusiq grabbed his hair and pulled it, teasingly. "Librarian boys don't like dirty stories."

Ben pulled away, and neatly caught Innusiq's arm, twisting it behind his back. "I'm not a librarian boy."

"You're not Inuit, either. My granna said I'm not to tell our dirty stories to white folk." Innusiq laughed. "Honestly, Ben. You'd just make a face." His imitation of Ben's disapproval looked annoyingly like Ben's grandfather.


End file.
